


In Your Heart Shall Burn

by HamJuice



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-17
Updated: 2020-01-17
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:34:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22294915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HamJuice/pseuds/HamJuice
Summary: In your heart shall burn an unquenchable flame.Very short fic on the destruction of Haven. There is Solavellan angst and I'm sorry.
Relationships: Female Lavellan/Solas
Comments: 1
Kudos: 23





	In Your Heart Shall Burn

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This is my first attempt at writing fics so any suggestions you have would be nice. :0)

“Go. No time. Haven lost. Find a way.” Cole hovered near Solas echoing her last thoughts as he sat by the fire, trying and failing to mend his footwraps. “What’s my life compared to theirs? What’s my life compared to his?”

“Cole, this isn’t helping,” Solas rubbed his hands over his face. It had been two days now since Haven and the refugees wondered where to turn. Solas knew of course; he should have said something sooner, but part of him didn’t want to.

_Maybe she’d still be alive._

“It hurts more than you thought it would,” Cole interrupted the silence. “You love her.”

“Cole.” Solas snapped.

“She loves you too,” Cole stood up abruptly as if to leave. “You should have told her.”

\---

“You will kneel."

“You Shemlen and your stolen power,” she struggled to stand, willing herself to face her opponent. The impact from the dragon’s fire threw her to the ground, shoulder crunching under the impact of her bodyweight. “I will not yield to a madman who claims more than he deserves!”

It snarled. Try as he might to convince her Fen would not yield, not while she drew breath. “You will resist. You always resist. It matters not.” His fists clenched, and the mark seared her hand, bringing her to her knees.

“What did you mean to do with this?” She hissed through gritted teeth. It hurt. Like someone had peeled away her skin only to rub in salt. She could feel it in her bones, twisting, rotting.

“I meant to use it to bring certainty where there is none. For you, the certainty that I will always come for it.” Corypheus closed the gap between them in little time, grabbing her wrist and hoisting her upwards. She screamed and kicked, but talon-like nails dug firmly into her skin. He brought her close, practically spitting in her face. “I once breached the fade in the name of another. For a thousand years, I was confused, no more. Pray that I succeed, for I have seen the throne of the gods, and it was empty.”

It took little effort on his part to throw her; an audible crack sounded as her back met with the trebuchet. The back of her head bounced off the wood, and her vision blurred; even with the creature’s size, Fen struggled to focus on her assailant. On her tongue, she could only taste metal as blood began to pool there.

“It is no matter. I will start anew. And you. I will not suffer even an unknowing enemy. You must die.” The dragon postured itself behind Corypheus, teeth bared and waiting for the command to strike.

_You have to stand. Face it. Wait, what was that? A flare. They’re safe._

_He’s safe._

The sword felt so heavy and awkward in her arms as she lifted it between her and the darkspawn. If she is to die, let her do so with dignity. “Your arrogance blinds you. That’s comforting.” Every word burned in her lungs, bile threatening to boil up in her throat. “Enjoy your victory. Here’s your prize!” Corypheus lunged forward as she swung the sword cutting the ropes to the trebuchet in one swift motion. His advance was too late, and soon, thousands of tons of snow rushed to meet them.

_Run. Run. Run._

The word played in her head as she summoned the strength to move forward. With each step, the pain seemed to fade away, replaced by adrenaline. She was cornered, but the wood beneath her feet gave out, and she plummeted into the darkness.

\---

It was now the third day, and the refugees had continued to move through the Frostbacks. Solas did his best to distract himself with his work, helping the injured and mending wounds where he could. Cole was insistent on staying by his side, following wherever he went. And although Solas wished to say Cole’s presence was a comfort, it only served as a bitter reminder. She had told them to run, and he was too much of a coward to tell her how he felt. Now she was gone.

He considered the irony of the situation. He considered how utterly cruel her fate had been. Fenmyelan had always been honest with him in her frustration with the Chantry and with Humans. She had been so wary of them, but in the end, she died for them. Solas knew her sacrifice would be forgotten quickly. He knew the glamor of her sacrifice would be soon overshadowed by the point of her ears.

He knew that, but that didn’t make it hurt any less.

“You’re hurting, Solas.”

“Hello, Cole.” He had no energy to send him away as the spirit settled next to him.

“Can I help?”

“I don’t think so.”

_This isn’t something you can heal._

“But it is,” Cole argued. “I can help!” Solas did not answer, and a heavy silence fell between them before long Cole gasped. “It was real. She’s real. You don’t have to wonder.”

Solas did not look up.

“But, she fades with each passing day.” Cole’s eyes turned sad as he continued. “I can’t see her anymore.”

\---

_So cold. So cold. Fingers stiff. Keep walking._

Fenmyelan trudged through the snow as the wind howled over the mountains. Night gave way to the day as the sun began to rise heralding a new day. Just beyond a set of trees, she saw debris, no, an abandoned camp.

_No. No. No. They should be here._

She threw her head back and screamed into the early morning air; the sun was rapidly approaching, and she needed to sleep. It would be warmer in the sun, she supposed, and the old campfire still had wood left to burn.

_Build a fire?_

“Ugh, fuck.” She whispered hopelessly to the flames as they struggled to move from her fingertips. In the distance, the wolves howled, and a faint chuckle escaped her lips as she considered howling back.

_Would I even wake up tomorrow? Would it even matter?_

\---

Solas sat in camp, feeling increasingly desperate. Cole, as well-meaning as he may have been, was far from helpful, and the attempts he made to ease his suffering only soured Solas’ mood. He desperately wanted to believe that he wasn’t foolish enough to fall in love with her, almost as much as he hoped she wasn’t dead. He wanted to believe he was resolved to do what he had planned to do, but there was little energy left to lie to himself. Her survival was no longer a convenience to him, but something he could not live without.

“Solas,” Cassandra’s voice sounded next to him as she slipped into his tent. “We were going to hold a service for the Herald. If you care to join.”

_Don’t call her that._

“I am content to stay in my tent if that is alright,” Solas gripped at the blanket in his lap, trying his best not to erupt. They’d give her a Chantry burning, no doubt — yet another insult.

“As you like.” Cassandra left his tent with a short nod, the flaps billowing slightly in the wind.

When he was sure she was gone, Solas released the coarse fabric from his grip. He drew a shaky inhale before trying to make himself more comfortable.

_Perhaps if I am lucky, they will bother me no further._

The rest of his evening went by in an uneasy peace. There was some shouting outside, but he had just assumed the advisors were at it again. Nonstop had they argued where to go; Solas knew he should guide them to Skyhold, but now he saw little point in doing so. The castle would be so empty. The castle would have everything except the one thing he wanted.

Solas’ head rose as the arguments grew harsher, more distinct. Against his better judgment, he listened.

“I think he’s just trying to help!” Josephine’s voice was unusually shrill as she struggled to be heard over the others.

“We don’t need a demon’s help!” Cullen yelled back. “We let our guard down, and it will attempt possession!”

“Agreed. This thing should go back to whatever hole it crawled out of.” The First Enchanter’s voice rang over the din. “Run along you disgusting creature.”

Solas sighed, anger boiling up in him, threatening to spill over. How could they treat their savior so poorly? He stood, wrapping his coat around himself; he would confront them.

“She’s lost!” Cole cried out in dismay.

“What is going on here?” Solas exited his tent at Cole’s words finding the spirit pacing frantically before the fire. “Who is lost, Cole?”

“The lady slips beneath the ice. The air freezes in her lungs. She follows the wolves, but they stopped howling. She can’t find her way back home!”

Solas’ heart jumped at the notion Fenmyelan might live.

No. She died at Haven. But what if- What if Cole could really sense her?

“Cole, speak plainly.” Solas urged. He had no patience to decipher his words now.

“They won’t look anymore!” Cole dismayed. “Without them, she’ll die!”

“Cole, where is she?” Solas grabbed the spirit by his shoulders, willing him to focus on him. “Where is Fenmyelan?”

“There.”

Cole’s arm raised slowly and pointed to the pass they had crossed just the day before. There was no sign of life; the empty space filled only with the falling snow.

Solas cared little whether Cassandra or Cullen followed him. He would find her with or without their help and bring her back safely. Staff in hand Solas marched off to where Cole had pointed determined to find her. The others joined soon after careful not to overstep their bounds by speaking.

They searched for an hour and found nothing. Cullen and Cassandra were quick to turn on Cole, certain he taunted them with their Herald’s death.

It was just as well that Solas had gone in search of Fenmyelan. Had it not been for the familiar thrum of the Anchor, she would have been overlooked as she lay buried in the snow.

_Please be alive._

The icy powder stung his fingers as he unearthed her body, dragging her out of the burrow her form had created.

_She’s so cold._

“It’s her!” Cassandra ran towards him. “Thank the Maker!”

_Damn your Maker._

“Get me a blanket!” Solas barked at the Seeker, who did so without complaint.

“Solas,” she mumbled in her sleep, moving slightly. It startled Solas, but he helped her tightly, her small movements hindered by the lingering pain. “Solas, ma ghilain.”

Carefully he ran his fingers in her knotted hair. It was caked in ice, clinging to her scalp in mats. “Hush. You’re safe.”

_I’m here._

Cassandra handed Solas a heavy woolen blanket waiting for him to wrap her before speaking. “Can we move her?” The Seeker seemed dubious of Fenmyelan’s condition. “Would it be wise?”

“We have no choice.” Solas scooped his arms under her and lifted her with little effort. Better him than anybody else. He cooed when Fenmyelan whimpered in pain. She felt so small in his arms. Her breaths were uneven and faint enough to miss.

_Just a while longer._

“Her shoulder is dislocated,” Solas laid her out on the cot as gently as possible, his eyes raking over her body to assess the damage which had been done. “Several ribs are broken as well. He away from her tattered clothes, which crunched under his fingertips. Each rib was outlined by a dark bruise. “Her lungs may be punctured; we must hurry.”

“Her wrists,” Dorian carefully maneuvered her arm for better access, seeming to ignore what Solas had just said. “Both are either sprained or broken. See the bruises? Maker, she’s cold as ice.”

“I see them,” Solas nodded, annoyed with his oversight. “Her right collarbone is broken too. I suspect she is also concussed, but we must address her ability to breathe first, don’t you think?” Perhaps more hostile than intended, but his point was well taken as Dorian set to work.

“I’ll warm her while you focus on her injuries.” Dorian rubbed his hands together. “If those don’t kill her, the cold will.”

\---

An hour passed, and then two and the rigorous healing left Solas and Dorian depleted of all energy. The First Enchanter had offered to help before being harshly turned away. Solas would not risk Fenmyelan’s life with broken knowledge from the Circle.

Only when her breathing finally returned to normal Solas felt himself relax. She was safe and well on her way to recovery. In the next day or two, they would be able to travel, and the walls of Skyhold would keep her safer than Haven ever could.

“I hope I’m not interrupting,” Dorian pushed his way into the tent in an unusually mild manner; exhaustion had seemed to temper his flamboyant tendencies. He carried two cups of broth, handing one to Solas. “You should rest. I’ll look after her while you do.”

“I am fine,” Solas argued, perhaps more angry than he had the right to be. Without Dorian’s help, Solas doubted she would have recovered. Had the Veil not been there, Solas could have healed her in a heartbeat. Now, maintaining such spells required a great deal of effort on his part. “I should not leave her side.”

_I don’t want to leave her side._

Dorian nodded before settling in a chair opposite Solas. “I know you care for her. I won’t force you to leave, but I must insist you rest.”

“I’m fine.”

Dorian pressed no further, instead opting to excuse himself from the tent to finish his meal with the others.

Her breathing seemed to draw Solas into a trance. His eyes darted away towards the tent door; no one seemed near enough to disturb them. Perhaps he could rest? Carefully Solas leaned back into the cot next to Fen careful not to shift her too much lest he reopens one of her wounds. His eyes closed, and for the first time in what felt like forever, he slipped into the Fade.

“Solas.” He blinked several times in an attempt to find where he had landed; certainly, it was nowhere he knew. He heard her call out again, and his eyes met hers. She was smiling, wrapped in his vest to chase away the imagined cold. The corners of her lips turned upwards in a brilliant smile. “I found you.”


End file.
